<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>The Prisoner's Dilemma by Springheeledjack</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/22954372">The Prisoner's Dilemma</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Springheeledjack/pseuds/Springheeledjack'>Springheeledjack</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man - All Media Types</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst, Anti-Sokovia Accords, BAMF Peter Parker, Cannon is dead I killed it behind Denny's, Gen, Not anti Tony but not exactly pro Tony either, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Prisoner Peter Parker, Torture, but doesn't get one</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-02-29</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-03-01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-01 12:02:21</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>4,280</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/22954372</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Springheeledjack/pseuds/Springheeledjack</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>On the first day in, Peter was sure that Mr. Stark would come and save him. The prison used his tech, it should be easy to find out that he was held captive here.</p><p>After the first month Peter was beginning to wonder what was causing Mr. Stark so much trouble. Surely getting him out wasn't that hard?</p><p>After the third month, Peter began to wonder if he knew he was gone at all.</p><p> </p><p>Peter's always lived his life as Spider-Man on the edge, barely scraping by with his life intact. But when he's taken into a remote prison designed for mutants, it'll take all he has to survive.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>5</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>61</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. The Fourth group</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>So I've been inspired by a few fics of Peter getting kidnapped, or detained because of the Sokovia Accords, and I've decided to create my own. What I like about comics is that I can change canon to be whatever I want it to be and feel no guilt. I hope you guys like what I wrote, and be free to leave comments if you want to!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The last day of each week always brought with it a certain silence to the prison.</p><p> </p><p>For some, it’d be the reminder of how another week had passed in a place where time seemed to crawl to a stop, each second inching forward with the weight of a minute. For others, It’d be the unusually gloomy atmosphere that the day always wrought, the air dense with melancholy.</p><p> </p><p>For most though, what made the day so much worse than others would be the newcomers.</p><p> </p><p>Filling out of the bus, they’d walk along in shackles in front of the yard, a display for all the old residents to see, as well as a glimpse of what was to come for the new ones.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Welcome to your new home </em>
</p><p> </p><p>The residents that had been here for less than a month were always at the front,  the memories of their own initiation were still fresh in their mind. Residents who’ve been there for longer often grew desensitized to it, but still watched on, a silent support to the people going through what they had, so many months ago.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> You know why you’re here </em>
</p><p> </p><p>After the first group, came the second group, with more guards and stronger shackles around their wrists. The speech would be the same, but the guards would be more cautious, fingers resting on the triggers of their guns, ready to fire rubber bullets at any sign of dissent. </p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Don’t think about acting out, that won’t end well for you </em>
</p><p> </p><p>Rarely, a third group would come, always in a large, armored vehicle. They were always the strongest, and one time a group of them came, someone had actually managed to break free of their shackles.</p><p> </p><p>The guards didn’t bother using rubber bullets that time.  </p><p> </p><p>
  <em> This’ll be the place where you live, and the place where you’ll die </em>
</p><p> </p><p>And so, for 12 weeks, the last day of each week went along as usual.</p><p> </p><p>On the thirteenth week, a fourth group came.</p><p> </p><p>In a truck that looked like it was designed to survive the end of the world, ten guards stepped out. Outfitted in full black, and each carrying an assault rifle, They all pointed it towards the entrance of the truck and waited.</p><p> </p><p>Out stepped a 15 year old boy.</p><p> </p><p>With shackles around his arms and legs, as well as a collar around his neck, he limped his way towards the entrance of the prison. </p><p> </p><p>There was no public initiation. No speech either. </p><p> </p><p>And just like that, regular life at the New York State Penitentiary for Enhanced Individuals was upended.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Welcome to your new home  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>---------------------------------</p><p> </p><p>Peter Parker was in school when they came for him. </p><p> </p><p>That was the most devious part about it. He could have escaped if he was out spidermaning, hell, if he was just walking home after school he could have ran away.</p><p> </p><p>But In front of his classmates who all knew him, who would all be in danger if a fight broke out, Peter, the most powerful person in the room, felt powerless.</p><p> </p><p>“We just need you to answer a few questions, son.”</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> RunRunRunRunRunDangerDangerDANGER </em>
</p><p> </p><p><em> “ </em>You just need to come down to the station, and answer a couple of questions.”</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> GetoutGEToutGETOUT </em>
</p><p> </p><p><em> “ </em>We’ve already talked to your aunt, she knows where you’re going, you don’t have to call her.”</p><p> </p><p>Peter could feel all the eyes in the room on him. He could sense Ned dialing a number under his desk, MJ looked as if she was about to speak up.</p><p> </p><p>The two men in the room looked professional enough, matching uniforms and hats with a Logo and three words on it.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Accord Enforcement </em>
  <em>Group</em>
</p><p> </p><p>Peter’s Spidey sense was pounding in his head, he could see the outline of a gun underneath his jacket, barely visible to the human eye. </p><p> </p><p>He could take on the two men in the room no problem.</p><p> </p><p>Ned’s phone buzzing broke the silence of the room. Somehow, Peter could imagine the text his aunt May had sent him.</p><p> </p><p>The two men shifted their eyes towards Ned, and Peter knew what he had to do.</p><p> </p><p>“I’ll come.”</p><p> </p><p>And so, Peter followed the two men into a black windowless van, his spidey sense pulsing stronger with each step he took.</p><p> </p><p>And as the needle pierced his skin, Midtown still in view, all he could think of was if May was going to be alright, as he drifted off into a dreamless sleep.</p><p> </p><p>---------------------------------</p><p> </p><p>“Do you know why you’re here?”</p><p> </p><p>The man was in his late 30’s, with thin black hair that looked to be balding. He wore a sickly green coat, and his belly looked as if he had drank a few too many beers in his lifetime. On his Coat, Peter could make out a name tag.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>N. Benson </em>
</p><p> </p><p>Peter didn’t need his spidey sense to tell him that this guy was bad news.</p><p> </p><p>“Felony tax evasion?”</p><p> </p><p>Benson, standing in front of the clear, glass screen, pulled out a remote from his pocket. Twisting a dial, he pressed a button.</p><p> </p><p>A sharp, blinding pain, erupted from Peter’s neck. The Collar sank into his skin, and shocked him with what felt like the full force of Thor’s hammer. For ten seconds, Peter convulsed in his shackles, thrashing against the wall he was tied up to. When the pain stopped, he was left wheezing for air.</p><p> </p><p>“Want to try again?”</p><p> </p><p>It was a few minutes before Peter finally spoke again.</p><p> </p><p>“One time I fed the ducks at the park even though the sign said don’t feed the ducks, but they only have that sign because they usually feed ducks bread which isn’t healthy-”</p><p> </p><p>Peter was once again cut off by blinding pain, this one stronger than the last.</p><p> </p><p>“I’m going to go off on a limb and say that your next answers gonna be as foolish as the last two, so I’ll just explain it to you”</p><p> </p><p>Turning to face him, Benson looked directly into Peter's eyes.</p><p> </p><p>“Peter Parker, you are special”</p><p> </p><p>Tapping on his watch, a projector popped up which showed various clips of Spider-Man.</p><p> </p><p>“Our studies showed that you would have broken cuffs designed for Captain America. Can you imagine our surprise? Cuffs designed to hold America’s greatest war hero, broken by a measly 14 year old”</p><p> </p><p>“15”</p><p> </p><p>With the press of a button, the shocks started again,</p><p> </p><p>“The adults are talking, and I would kindly ask you to not interrupt.” Rummaging through his pockets, he took out a pair of handcuffs with the Stark Industries logo on them</p><p> </p><p>“We had to custom order a pair of handcuffs that could hold your strength. These contain vibranium and could fetch a price of 1 million dollars”</p><p> </p><p>“Pretty crappy price for a glorified sex toy” this time Peter couldn’t even feel anything when he was getting zapped. He didn’t know if that was a good or bad thing.</p><p> </p><p>“You need to understand, this is for the greater good” holding up a syringe, Benson entered the room holding Peter. “Mutants like you are a danger to society, and need to be treated with utmost care”</p><p> </p><p>“And I suppose my blood’s gonna be treated with utmost care as well, right?”</p><p> </p><p>Ignoring the comment, Benson came up to Peter’s arm and injected the syringe into him. Filling it up, he didn’t bother putting a bandaid on the wound he made, it would heal in minutes.</p><p> </p><p>“If you’re co-operative, we could even make arrangements to hold you in a comfier cell. You’d just have to tell us the full extent of your  powers and I’m sure we could get you a bed."</p><p> </p><p>Peter spat in his face</p><p> </p><p>Wiping off the spit, Benson sighed.</p><p> </p><p>“Your loss. I’ll be back in a week to get another dose. In the meantime, why don’t you think about my offer? It’s always open”</p><p> </p><p>Walking away with a syringe of blood in hand, he handed off the remote to one of the guards at the door.</p><p> </p><p>“Experiment, but don’t kill him. He’s more useful to us alive than dead.”</p><p> </p><p>And with that, Benson left, and the shocking started once more.  </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Windowless, Black, Vans</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Went back and did a few minor updates on the first chapter, just so stuff made more sense in the future, Will also update the tags with characters that come along the way, because although I have a clear end to the story, I have no idea how to get there. Once again, comments and Kudos are appreciated, and I love you all.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Peter was familiar with the Sokovia Accords. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>And by familiar, he meant he heard it once in passing.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Sure, Mr. Stark didn’t really tell him what they were about when he flew him to Germany, but that really wasn’t his job, was it? No, his job was to  catch Captain America and his team of rogues, and make sure Peter didn’t get himself killed.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>At least, according to Mr. Stark it was.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>So really, all things considered, the Accords shouldn’t have been Peter’s problem, whatever they were. Mr. Stark would have informed him about them if they were important, right?</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Right?</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>One international field trip, two broken ribs, and an awesome new suit later, Peter was back in the swing of things, patrolling around New York like he hadn’t left at all. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>But no matter how Peter looked at it, something was off. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He wasn’t talking about how the Bugle hadn’t published a critic of him since he returned, nor how less and less people were calling him a menace nowadays. That didn’t bother him.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>What did though, was how the parents who did pull their children away from him looked twice as scared as they did before, and how he could barely see another hero on his patrols.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Sure, it wasn’t a common occurrence, but from time to time, he would see another super out of the corner of his eye. Glances would be exchanged, a nod of confirmation, and they’d be off on their merry way. He’d even gotten to hang out with Daredevil once! Sure, the only thing that he said to Peter was “Go home kid” but he’d consider that a positive interaction.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Now, heroes avoided him like the plague.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>It all didn’t make sense to him, but Peter pushed it to the back of his mind. The city never slept, and there were always people to be saved, no matter what they thought of him.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>And so for three months, Peter patrolled New York, and life went on.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>---------------------------------</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>One look at the black, windowless van, and Peter’s spidey sense started buzzing.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Not like the soft, faint buzz that appeared when there was a threat to people near him. Nor like the small hum that came when someone strong approached him.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>This buzz was loud, violent, and it meant danger. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Which of course meant Peter should follow it.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>And as the van twisted and turned through the roads, steadily closing in on its destination, the sounds of a fight steadily rang louder in Peter’s ears.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The scene that greeted Peter when he arrived could only be described as surprising.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>In an alleyway in the dead of night, a group of six men all dressed in black combat gear surrounded one dark haired woman. A black, windowless van, much like the one that was about to arrive, was also on scene.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Up from a rooftop, looking down on the fight, what surprised Peter wasn’t the fact that six men were ganging up on one woman. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>It was the fact that the one dark haired woman was winning with ease.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>With a well placed punch to the jaw, one of the men was sent flying back, while the woman bobbed and weaved between the punches and baton strikes of the other men. The man she had punched laid sprawled out on the floor his back, knocked out cold.  On his vest, only three words could be read.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Accord Enforcement Group</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The Accords were what Mr. Stark was supporting, wasn’t it? It was a way to hold heroes accountable, to ensure they weren’t above the law, right? The woman down there must have broken the law, or she wouldn’t be attacked like this.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Right?</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>With two people down now, and another two limping, things weren’t looking so good for the group of men. If Peter jumped down now, he could probably turn the tides in their favor, helping them arrest the wanted woman. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>But above all else, Peter trusted his spider sense. And right now, his spider sense was telling him that if he let the group of men take the woman into their van, he’d never see her in New York again.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The second van pulled up. Another group of six men came out, except this time, they had guns.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Peter knew what he had to do.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Webbing up one of the guard’s gun, Peter landed on the side wall of the alley.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Hey uglies! You have a permit for these? I need to see some ID”. His spider sense went off, and he was up the wall, his previous spot riddled with bullet holes.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Using the distraction, the woman punched one of the limping guy in the nose, and stomped on his foot. Peter was sure he’d have heard a sickening crunch, if his ears weren’t getting hammered with the sounds of gunshots. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>And so, the battle went on. The woman punched and kicked the men, while shrugging off a few hits from them, and Peter moved too fast for people to hit with their bullets.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Eventually the battle was over, and none of the men were left standing. Looking over to the woman, he could see that she was roughed up a bit, but besides one bullet wound that looked like it grazed her shoulder, she seemed fine.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Quickly glancing over the unconscious men to make sure they were OK, Peter began webbing them up when his spidey sense flared once again.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Ducking to dodge the woman’s punch, she quickly sent out another, and this time, Peter had to jump back onto a wall to avoid it.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“So is this how you treat every person who saves you, or am I just special?” Peter said, shooting a web to the last guy who remained uncovered.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I-” the woman said, breaths breaking her sentence, “had it covered.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Sure you did, but an extra pair of hands could always help.” Peter said, waving both his hands in front of his face “Although would I be considered four pairs of hands? Arachnids do have eight legs”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“You talk a lot”. dusting off her coat and grabbing a bottle of wine that, somehow, was left unharmed during the whole altercation.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Was she fighting drunk? </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Don’t follow me.” Taking a large swig from the bottle, she jumped to the roof of the building next to her.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Of course she can fly.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Peter, of course, decided to follow her.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Jumping up after her, Peter swung his way till he caught up to the woman, who was leisurely drinking her bottle of wine, and jumping from roof to roof. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“What the fuck did I just say?” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m told I have hearing problems” Chucking the wine bottle, which was now empty, at Peter, she turned around to face him, crossing her arms.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Hey!” Peter said, catching the bottle in mid air “ That goes in the recycling.” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“What” the glare on the woman’s face was beginning to scare Peter “ Do you want?” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Why were those guys after you?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The Woman scoffed “Don’t play dumb, Stark Boy. I saw you at the fight in Germany. You know why they were there.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I really don’t.” Said Peter, coming a bit closer with his hands held up, as a sign of surrender. “And I’m a man, not a boy”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The Woman paused at this. A perplexed look came over her face, which slowly turned darker and darker.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“How” she said, pointing a finger at his chest, “old are you?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Peter said the first number that came to his head.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“43”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Try again”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“6” Once again, the woman paused at this. A worried look came over her face.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Please don’t tell me you actually believe me. I don’t look that young, do I?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s a hell of a lot closer than 43”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Look,” Peter said, glancing at the woman's eyes, which now held a seriousness they didn’t before “I’ll tell you how old I am if you tell me why you were attacked”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Looking down at her feet, the woman sighed and met his gaze once again</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I haven’t signed the Sokovia Accords, and I don’t plan on doing so. They’re after me to take me in”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Placing his hands on his face, Peter sighed and let them drag down his head.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Hi, I’m Spider-Man, I’m 15, and I have no clue what the Sokovia Accords are”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>---------------------------------</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Standing on a random roof in hell’s kitchen wasn’t how Peter saw his night going. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He remembers the lound “Fuck!” the woman had said after he gave out his age, followed by pacing and mutterings on how she’d wring Mr. Starks neck. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>In the end, the woman hadn’t been able to explain to him what the Accords were, but she knew someone who could.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m a private Investigator, not a lawyer. I may know what’s going on with the accords, but you’ll need a legal eye to see all the fine prints.”Grinning, as if she was in on an inside joke peter was missing out on, she then said, “and the person I know happens to have quite an </span>
  <em>
    <span>eye </span>
  </em>
  <span>for all things legal”.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Peter didn’t get the joke, but still laughed, out of politeness.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Thanks miss-”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Jessica” the woman said, holding out a card “Jessica Jones”.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The card was a coupon for one bottle of whiskey, but Peter didn’t want to ruin her mood, so he said nothing and just swung away, leaving the slightly drunk private investigator on the roof. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>And now, on a random roof in hell’s kitchen, Peter was going to do the dumbest thing he’d done all week.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“If you want to meet the Devil” Jessica said, a conspiratorial look in her eyes, “all you gotta do is call”.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh! Does he have number, or-”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“No” she chuckled. Bringing her hands to her face, she made a crude megaphone out of them.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Call” </span>
  </em>
  <span>she whispered, grinning from ear to ear.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Bringing his hands to his face, Peter took a deep breath and-</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Please don’t do that.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“AGH!” Peter would deny jumping 5 feet in the air, the only person who saw him was Daredevil, you have no proof.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Wha- How-”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I was in the area when I saw you were about to scream” Daredevil said, “might not want to do that though, I heard Lawyers are cranky.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Peter glanced down the side of the building</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Nelson and Murdock</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Attorneys at Law </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Regaining his bearings, Peter spoke.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Jessica Jones sent me. I need to know what the accords are.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>A frown passed Daredevils face, before being replaced by a serious look.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I thought you’d know what the Accords are, you did fight for them after all.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“The thing is I don’t” There was a hint of desperation in Peter's voice “I was never told anything and now everyone’s treating me differently and Ms. Jones got attacked just now and she says it’s the accords fault but I was fighting for the accords! So that means it’s my fault she got hurt and what if there’s more people out there getting hurt but don’t have super strength and can fly and it’ll be my fault they get hurt again all because I wanted to help Mr. Stark and-”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Breath”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Peter didn’t realize the tears streaming down his face, nor the fact that he had removed his own mask. Sitting on the floor, knees hugged to his chest, all that Peter could think of were the people that’d get hurt because of him, and how it was all his fault, and how-</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s alright, you’re OK, breathe with me. In and out. In, and out.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>When Peter finally got back to his senses, he realized that he was without his mask.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Shit</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Jumping back, Peter was about to say something before Daredevil beat him to it.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m blind”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Those two words sent all of peters neural functions to a halt.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“What?” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Chemical spill when I was younger, lost vision in my eyes” He waved his hand before his face “blind as a bat.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Why” Peter asked, gulping down his saliva, “are you telling me this?” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“So you know we’re on even ground. You haven’t seen my face and I” he said, pointing at his eyes, “Haven’t seen yours.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Turning to face Daredevil once more, Peter gathered his courage.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“What can you tell me about the Accords?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>If Peter could see Daredevil’s eyes, and he wasn’t, you know, blind, he’d swear he see the eyes of a ship captain, looking out onto an oncoming storm.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“The Sokovia Accords, are a set of rules and regulations that dictate what a superhero can or can’t do. If there’s a problem happening somewhere in the world, the Avengers would need the permission of a predetermined board before they can go out, less they face jail time.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“But why would Ms. Jones be affected by the Accords? She’s not an avenger.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>A sad look spread over Daredevil’s face.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“The Accords affect everyone, kid. Jessica’s done some vigilante work before, meaning under current accord laws, she’s susceptible to detainment without trial.” Daredevil’s Mouth frowned, “Or, it might be just because they deem her a threat”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“They can do that?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Under the accords, anyone who the government deems </span>
  <em>
    <span>a danger to society </span>
  </em>
  <span>can be detained without trial”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“They can’t do that!”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>A black van sped across the street in front of them.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s a bit too late to be wondering what they can or can’t do”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>A solemn look spread over Peter’s face.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“The black vans. How many do you think they’ve…”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Daredevil could only shrug, “I’ve started seeing them a couple of weeks back. At the rate they’ve been going out, we could very well be talking about a thousand people missing”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>A thousand people missing. A thousand people missing and he didn’t do anything. Didn’t notice anything.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Didn’t want to notice anything.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“What-” Peter swallowed dryly “what can I do?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“No offence kid, but this isn’t exactly your problem to fix-” </span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>“With great power,” Peter Picked up his mask, and put it on, “comes great responsibility. A thousand people are missing because I was too stupid to notice. What can I do to stop them?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Daredevil sighed</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“The world isn’t that simple kid, there’s no person to punch that’ll solve this problem”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Still, I can’t just sit here and do nothing!”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Look kid, the best thing you can do for now is just go out and be Spider-Man.” Moving towards the edge of the roof, he quickly parkoured down. “Maybe stop a few of their vans? Just make sure to lay low, Don’t need another person missing.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Don’t worry, I’ll lay low”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>And as he left, Peter couldn’t shake off a feeling that even though Daredevil was blind, he saw right through his lie.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Peter became busy, in the following week. He did as much research as he could on the Sokovia Accords, and tried to find out ways he could help out. Be it following black vans whenever he saw them, or attending anti Accord protest in his Spider-Man suit, every little bit counted.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>And each little kid he saved from the back of a black van, each family he helped reunite, made it all worth it.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He even sent a message to Mr. Stark! Sure, he hadn’t responded to any messages he sent to him in the past 3 months, but it wouldn’t hurt to try.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Hey, uhh Mr. Stark? Think we could meet up and have a, you know, talk about the Accords? Just a quick one! I Just have a few questions that I-</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Really, things were looking pretty good for Peter Parker. Even if they sent a few guys after him, they were no match for his ultimate tactic: Web Slinging away.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>So really, Peter was feeling pretty safe. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Then, they came for him in school </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>And Just like that, his whole life changed.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Peter woke up in a dimly lit cell, Hands and feet shackled to the wall. The smell of burnt hair and flesh permeated the poorly ventilated room. His collar was off his neck. Instead, it lay broken on the floor next to him.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Everything hurt.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“You’ve been holding out on us, Peter” Came a familiare voice “That collar was designed to emit enough electricity to kill a whale. It just made you go to sleep.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Benson walked to a control panel in the middle of the glass and pressed a button. A Large metal shield shot up to cover the glass. For a moment, nothing happened. Then suddenly, the loudest noise Peter has ever heard in his life broke his eardrums.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Peter screamed, but couldn’t hear himself.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The shield shot back down, Benson could be seen smiling on the other side of the glass.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Of course, that just means that we’ve got to find out more ways to break you. It hasn’t been a week, but I’m feeling kind today so I’ll ask, are you willing to cooperate?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Peter remained silent for a moment, waiting for the ringing in his ears to stop. Then, in a small voice, he spoke.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Why?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I beg your pardon?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Why are you doing this? They’ve done nothing wrong to you!”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Benson stopped what he was doing for a moment, as if he was thinking of the right words to say</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Scientists use lab rats to test out various drugs. We use the axon of squids to understand more about ours. I’m just continuing the trend.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Pushing the button once again, Benson walked to the door and waited for the blast to finish, and the soundproof shields to pop down.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m just experimenting on  animals, for the betterment of humanity”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>And with that, Benson left, and the shield went up again.     </span>
</p>
<p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
  </div></div>
</body>
</html>